Vengeance
by Sparkling Slayer
Summary: Sequel to an earlier fic called The Switch. Please read that first!!! (And review it!) Buffy/Faith/Angel crossover. PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!!!! :o)
1. Default Chapter

Part 1 - Arrival  
  
The first part of their journey back to Sunnydale was in silence. The bus rocked steadily through the night, the other passengers also quiet, though a baby grizzled now and then, hushed gently by its mother. Neither felt like talking much, after leaving Angel. They'd settled down for the journey, separated by the aisle, comfortably silent with each other, exchanging glances now and again, blue eyes meeting dark.  
  
Angel had given them money, more than enough for the ride back, and Cordelia had been pressed into loaning more of her wardrobe. She clearly hadn't been happy but had been slightly mollified by the promise of a pay rise, returning with poor grace and a leather bag, bulging with items. They'd all withdrawn then, tactfully leaving Buffy and Angel together, though Cordelia had been reluctant to go, especially not with Faith. She'd been convinced that they might find Angelus when they returned, instead of Angel. But she'd been persuaded to leave, Faith almost dragging her from the building. She'd returned to her apartment in the end, and then Faith had gone back, hours later as promised, alone, ready to leave the city.  
  
They didn't speak much after they'd left Angel, walking through the dark, though Buffy had been glad of Faith's company, of the tight grip on her hand, that let her know Faith was thinking of her. Who knows, she thought sadly, without it she might have gone running back to him. And that would - just lead to death and pain, if they were ever together the way she wanted them to be. And she knew he would never allow it. He had so much already to atone for, and finally she could see that he felt he was doing good, redeeming his past as a demon.  
  
So they rode the bus in silence, each busy with her own thoughts. Buffy was full of thoughts of Angel, picturing his face, the sound of his voice. But creeping in, the sound of her mother's voice, her smile, the way her perfume smelled. The mischievous smile that Willow wore, eyes sparkling as she unearthed some new bit of arcane law. And Xander and Giles, always so willing to help. She was glad to be going home to her mother, and her friends. She sighed and folded her coat into a more comfortable pillow, curling up on the bus seat, her feet beneath her. She glanced briefly across at Faith before closing her eyes. Sleep, at least, would be welcome.  
Faith lay across two seats, facing Buffy, lying on her back, head similarly pillowed on one of Cordelia's jumpers. Her mind was filled with the Council and what they might do to her. Or make her do. Her thoughts wandered, wondering what the Scooby Gang might say or do. They were bound to be there when they arrived - Buffy'd called Giles to let him know when they would reach Sunnydale. She couldn't imagine they would welcome her with open arms, and surely Giles would have told them - about the switch. What she'd done. But then, surely they would also know she'd changed. Was - normal now. Like them. Or as normal as a Slayer could be. Her eyes drifted closed, her breathing evened and slowed. Sleep......  
  
* * * * *  
  
She gasped and jerked awake, bathed in sweat, to see Buffy looking down at her, swaying gently as the bus sped along. It was light now, though, a misty dawn coming. "Hush, now. You're dreaming again." Faith struggled into a sitting position, pushing damp hair away from her face, feeling the cold sweat on her forehead. She made a slight face at the wetness. Some of the other passengers were looking over, curiosity in their faces, woken by Faith's voice. Buffy smiled at them and waved a hand to indicate things were under control and turned back to Faith.  
  
"Here," she said, holding out a wadded, damp tissue. Faith took it gratefully and wiped her hot face, pressing it onto her forehead. "Same one again?"  
  
Faith shook her head, frowned. "No. Not this time." She looked up at Buffy fearfully, eyes wide and dark. "This one - was different. Something's coming, B. I don't know when, but - it's bad. Really, really bad. And it's coming -" she exhaled suddenly, "coming for me. For all of us......" 


	2. 

Part 2 - Home at Last  
  
The bus ground to a final halt in Sunnydale, hissing jerkily to a stop. Faith and Buffy climbed down the stairs, waving to the driver. He ignored them, sullen, bored, cap pulled down, staring out of the front windshield. They exchanged glances and shrugged, Buffy shielding her eyes against the sun then, looking round. And there they were. Giles, Willow, Xander - even Anya - standing in a loose semi-circle, facing the bus, standing partly under a dark shelter. Giles' arms were folded across his chest and even at this distance Buffy could see his face was set, disapproving. He was looking at Faith - they all were. With disgust, contempt.  
  
Buffy straightened her shoulders, reassuringly took Faith's hand and started to walk towards them. Faith hung back for a moment like a frightened child, then reluctantly followed, almost dragging her feet. When they were within the last few yards, Buffy suddenly dropped Faith's hand, running forwards, face lighting up and eyes sparkling. Faith stood apart, watching. Group hug time, she thought wryly, as they laughed and clutched at each other, Xander lifting Buffy off the floor in his exuberance. Even Anya joined in, though awkwardly. They broke apart then, turning to face her. Faith watched as the smiles faded one by one, faces growing still; finally only Buffy still looked as happy as she had a moment ago.  
  
"Hi......" she ventured into the silence. There was no response, then Buffy stepped forward, breaking the tension, taking her hand again. Faith squeezed it gratefully, eyes downcast. Giles cleared his throat.  
  
"Um. Yes. Faith. Well. The Council are waiting for you. Things," he paused, "have been explained to them. But - well, they're waiting. We should go. And I'm sure Buffy is looking forward to seeing her mother again." He smiled at Buffy, then at her but she could see it was strained. She knew Joyce hadn't been told of the switch between Slayers, believing that Buffy had gone to bring Faith to justice. She knew Joyce had, though, been told about the working on her.  
  
"Giles, what are the Council going to do? To Faith?" Buffy asked. Willow and Xander were chatting excitedly in the background, but Buffy's question abruptly shut them up. Anya was silent but her gaze swung between the two Slayers. The three of them glanced at Faith, then turned their attention to Giles, suddenly back in his place as the Watcher again.  
  
He took off his glasses and absently polished them, looking up at the blue sky. A sure sign of stress, Buffy realised, looking at him more sharply. She watched as he put them back on and finally turned his gaze to her, his eyes flicking once to Faith. "She can hear it," she insisted. She looked at Willow and Xander. Willow shrugged and held her hands out, palms up. I don't know, the gesture said. Xander just shook his head. "We're going to find out sooner or later. I want to know. What are their plans?" Buffy persisted, staring hard at Giles.  
  
He cleared his throat uneasily. "The delegation they've sent......well. There won't be a trial or anything messy like that," he said slowly. "But - well. They don't want her out on the streets. They -" he cleared his throat again, glancing at Faith who was still studying the floor. "They want you locked up, till they can prove that you won't go rogue again. That you're safe. For long enough to convince them that - that you've redeemed yourself for what you've done," he finished in a rush. He shrugged. "We've explained about the ritual that Wesley worked on you, although he should have known better, but still. They want proof, and you did - well, you murdered, Faith. At least four victims that we know of. They simply don't feel you can be trusted. And somehow, you have to pay for it." He sighed.  
  
Faith swallowed and raised her head, looking at him then. "I think I knew that's - that's what they'd do. Deep down. I knew there wasn't much hope of anything good." She straightened her shoulders, fought down tears. "Well, we'd better go," she said softly, hanging onto Buffy's hand, drawing strength from her. "Wouldn't want to keep them......" 


	3. 

Part 3 – The Happy Sunnydale Hospital 

They'd gone to Giles' from the bus station, to be met by six men, all senior members of the Watchers Council. They all looked the same, suits and sour expressions, sweating in the heat, uncomfortable and clearly wary of her. Still. Faith had found it difficult to understand them, their accents ranging all over the place, but she'd understood what they told her. When they confirmed what Giles had said. 

The leader had taken great relish in telling her she was going away for a very, very long time, and they were waiting for a place for her – at the local psychiatric hospital. He'd smiled grimly as he told her, but she could tell that it was more personal for him than the others. He'd been one of the ones that she'd – Buffy'd – beaten up to escape, when they'd switched. He still had bruises, even after the time that had passed. But till the placement came up, someone was with her or nearby all the time. Watching her breathe, eat, sleep. The only privacy she had was when she bathed and even then someone was outside the door. 

Buffy had argued with them in vain. She'd heard the raised voices, sometimes, when they thought she was asleep. Buffy, begging them to understand, to trust. She'd loved Buffy for trying, even though she knew that this was something that had to happen. She had to pay for her crimes, and if that meant being locked up and never seeing daylight again, then so be it. She knew Buffy had told them about the dreams, the thing that was coming for them. Then the placement had come up, and now here she was. 

She lay now on her bed, hair almost black against the white pyjamas that were the uniform, in this place. Visiting time soon. Buffy had come alone at first, but now Willow had started to come with her, was even being friendly. She sighed, moving her head slightly on the hard pillow. She could hear the sounds of other inmates – someone cursing, someone else screaming and chanting. The ceaseless babble of insanity, all around her. Unstoppable. Faith sometimes wondered if she'd slipped into insanity somewhere in the cupboard under the stairs as a child. But she'd dismissed that, knowing she was normal (now) and sane, when she saw some of the other poor souls in this place. 

The room was bare, its only furnishings fixed and immovable, walls painted grubby magnolia, wooden floor bare and dull, pitted from the many feet that had trodden it over the years. A chair, bolted to the floor, with a robe hanging limply over it. No belt to pull it closed round her body. Who knew what an inmate could do with a length of cloth? The bed, frame made of metal, with a thin mattress. A small bedside table, fixed to the wall, with a plastic jug of water and foam cup standing on it. Nothing breakable, or usable – just in case. Who could tell what the inmates would think they saw? They'd made sure it had only the tiniest of barred windows too, up by the ceiling. Even she, a Slayer, couldn't jump high enough to reach it and it was too small to climb out of (she could have bent the bars with ease), but it still let in a reasonable amount of light. 

She wondered if the Council had asked for that, smiled briefly at the thought. Her hands were crossed behind her head and she stared idly at the ceiling, watching the fan there revolve, throwing shadows behind it, humming gently. Round and round and round and round and round. Her eyes followed it, mesmerised, lulled by the steady drone of the motor, and slowly, gently she slipped into sleep. 

  
i…_She looks round the room, seeing the shadows growing longer in the corners, thickening slowly. The only light is an overhead, sited near the fan, programmed to come on at dusk. The room will be dark long before then, of course. The shadows crowd ever more thickly, and now she thinks she sees movement as well. Sly, crawling movement. She sits up on the bed, drawing her knees up to her chin, looking now, peering hard into the corner. Relaxing slightly – nothing there after all. But now a sound, sly and stealthy at the edge of hearing, standing out amidst the babble of the other poor souls in this place. She gasps and scoots back slightly on the bed, jammed up against the wall now, staring round wildly. A familiar feeling. The way she felt as a child, in the dark space beneath the stairs, that odd damp, mouldy smell filling her nostrils. _

She feels something. Something watching. Looking at her. Then a touch, something sliding along her arm, along her warm, smooth skin. Its touch is cold and moist and she yanks herself away from it in disgust…../i

  
Faith jerked awake with a strangled yelp, breathing hard, eyes wide as she found herself looking into the face of one of the orderlies. He jerked back with a startled exclamation, hand to his chest, mouth half open in surprise. His face reddened as he looked at her. 

"What – what do you want?" she asked, eyes narrowing as she looked at him. 

"It's visiting time," he answered, staring at her, leering at the slim outline of her body in the thin white pyjamas. He licked his lips slowly. Faith winced in disgust and drew further back from him. "Better shift yourself, crazy. They ain't gonna wait all day for you." He jerked his head towards the partly open doorway, where a trolley stood, blocking the opening. "And your room needs cleaned. Come on, move your ass. He'll be here to take you down in a minute."


	4. 

Part 4 - A Visit  
  
Faith padded down the corridor of C Wing with her escort, another orderly called Stan. He was always nice to her, not like the other one, the one in her room. She shivered at the thought of the other's vacant eyes, thick lips, the way he leered at her; she was sure he touched her when she was asleep, when he thought she wouldn't know. But she was sure he did.  
  
Her slippers sushed quietly on the wooden floor. Stan walked behind, keeping an eye on her, though she'd tried to tell him there was no need. She wouldn't do anything, hurt anyone, even though she knew she had the strength and speed, things they would never have. More than they knew, perhaps. But the compulsion to kill, to hurt, was gone and she'd resigned herself to this. And perhaps, if she showed herself to be alright now, continued her good behaviour, her sentence in this place - she made a face - would be reduced. She wasn't sure if the Council would have any say over that, or whether it would be down to the hospital staff themselves. But now, at the moment, as part of the hospital security, she couldn't just wander round on her own. She sighed. At least her rating had been relaxed from "dangerous". Then, she'd been cuffed and hobbled and nearly carried to meet her visitors, and it had been in the secure area, with thick sheets of glass between them, communicating by  
telephone. But several meetings with the hospital shrinks had convinced them she could be trusted, and now she just had an escort, was allowed to walk, free from restraints.  
  
They passed doors on either side as they progressed, one or two open but most shut. She looked quickly away from the open doors; the occupants of those rooms were strapped to their beds, sometimes lying still in drugged stupors, sometimes thrashing, trying to free themselves. C Wing was the high security wing and her room was still there despite her relaxed status from "dangerous".  
  
Faith unconsciously began to walk faster, waiting impatiently when the orderly stopped to unlock security doors as they passed through the hospital, through different wings, on their way to the day room. She lived for these visits. She was now allowed two a week, and they were all that kept her going. She even had permission to shower on those days and wash her thick, dark hair. Giles had come once or twice, reporting that the Council's delegation had returned to England, asking if she'd had any more dreams about the "bad thing." Faith had simply shaken her head. Her nightmares were back, some the usual ones, some not. But nothing like the one on the bus.  
  
* * * *  
  
She smiled in anticipation as they entered the day room, soundproofed to keep out the general din of the hospital, even though it was faint, here, away from the inmates in their locked rooms. It was where the almost normal patients were allowed to come, to watch television, to play board games or read books, under the watchful eye of attendant orderlies in a nearby nurses' station. It was empty at this time of day, set aside for people who dared to visit those relatives who'd been struck down by mental illnesses. There were very few of them, and Faith seemed to be the only one who had regular visits. Today, again, only Buffy and Willow stood there when she entered. She glanced at Stan for permission; he smiled slightly and nodded, then retreated to the station where he could watch TV and keep any eye on them all at the same time. Faith needed no urging; she ran across the room and flew into Buffy's open arms, hugging her tightly, inhaling the faint perfume of her, feeling  
the silkiness of her hair. Buffy hugged her back just as hard, but concerned at the same time. Faith was so thin. After a moment, she stepped back, releasing Faith. Awkwardly, Willow stepped forward; she and Faith hugged briefly. Never truly friends, but both trying, now.  
  
They were silent for a moment, all looking at each other. Buffy broke the silence, smiling warmly at Faith, though slightly frightened by the odd glitter of her eyes, the strained expression on her face, even though she smiled and was pleased to see them.  
  
She asked the same question she always asked. "How are you?"  
  
Faith tried to laugh. "Well, B, this is OK, waited on hand and foot......hell, could be worse." She grew serious. "But there's this guy. He's so gross. I think - I know he - touches me. When he thinks I'm asleep. He was in my room today." She shuddered. "And my dreams are - getting stranger. Something's - watching me. I feel it. Don't know what it is, but it's there."  
  
Willow looked up. "Shouldn't you report him or something? And your dreams.. Isn't there anything else?" she asked. "I mean, have you actually seen anything it could be? Or is it just the watching feeling?"  
  
Faith shrugged. "Who'd believe me? He works here, I'm just a crazy," she said bitterly. "And I don't know about the dreams. It's just there, is all. You guys are the research department, you figure it out." Psychotic tendencies might have been removed, but Faith was still Faith. "So, what have you guys been doing? How's Xander, and Anya? And Giles, how's he?" she asked, eager to hear of things outside her walled hospital prison.  
  
Buffy and Willow began to talk, giggling and finishing each other's stories of the Scooby Gang, laughing at things that Faith hadn't been part of. Faith smiled though and watched their animated faces, smiling when they smiled, laughing when they laughed. But she still felt alone, deep inside. Her heart ached as she watched Buffy, golden skinned and beautiful. The time passed quickly, as it always did on their visits, and finally Buffy checked her watch.  
  
Both she and Willow had been absently rubbing at their arms for some time without noticing the goosebumps that had risen, as the room grew steadily colder. The overhead light had also begun to flicker, pulsing, now dim, now bright, now dim, now bright.... Buffy paused uneasily, glancing at Willow then up at the ceiling. She looked at her watch.  
  
"We should go," she said gently, glancing up from the watch face. "Faith? It's that - FAITH?" Neither of them had noticed that Faith had become silent. She sat, stiff in her chair, beginning to shudder, eyes wide and staring, face white. Her mouth was slightly open, and her breath came in short, panting bursts.  
  
Buffy and Willow exchanged frightened glances; Buffy began to rise to her feet. The room was much darker than it had been before, the light suddenly blinking out completely. As Buffy stood up, the air felt suddenly thin and strange; she swayed, thrusting out her arms, trying to keep her balance as black flowers bloomed at the edges of her vision. As the blackness overwhelmed her, she felt herself falling, tilting to one side. When she hit the floor, Willow falling next to her, she felt nothing. 


	5. 

Part 5 - Faith's Nightmare Made Real  
  
Buffy sat up with a gasp, instinctively grabbing for the hand on her shoulder, shoving away with all her strength. But Faith didn't move, her strength the equal of Buffy's, fear adding to it. Their eyes met - Faith's wide with fright, Buffy's dark with confusion. Buffy let go of her arm and touched the back of her head. "Ow." She winced as she touched a sore spot. "Must've hit it when I fell over...... what the hell happened? Where's Willow?"  
  
Faith swallowed, gestured to one side. "Willow's OK, I think. She's still out though, I tried - I couldn't wake her up. She's over there."  
  
Buffy crawled over to Willow and gently touched her face. Faith had placed a pillow under her head. Her cheek was warm and her chest rose and fell with regular breaths, but shaking her gently produced no response. Buffy looked up at Faith, who'd risen to her feet, head tilted now to one side. Slowly she walked to the door and warily, silently pulled it open. She looked out into the corridor, glanced quickly both ways, and came back into the room. "Buffy? Do you hear anything?" She swallowed quickly, face and eyes strained. "There's no noise. Nothing. Apart from the fans......"  
  
She left the door open and followed the wall of the dayroom along, until she reached the thick shatterproof glass of the nurses station. The light there had gone off, leaving it in shadowy darkness. There was no movement inside. She pressed her face to the glass and cupped her hands beside her face, peering in. She recoiled as though she'd been struck, face white, eyes wide, stumbling away from the window with a strangled gasp.  
  
"Faith? What is it?" Buffy said quietly. Faith swallowed convulsively and stared at her. Demons she'd seen, and she'd killed in her time, human and non-human, but what was left of the orderly.........she'd never seen anything like it. She just shook her head, backing quickly away from the nurses station, hands loose at her sides.  
  
"Something's......happened," she said thickly. "He's been - uh. Jesus. Uh, ripped apart. You - you don't want to look in there."  
  
Buffy scrambled to her feet from where she'd been kneeling by Willow's side. "But......who - how - I don't understand." Faith's face tightened and she shook her head wordlessly.  
  
"What - what about the rest of the - you said there was no noise out there," Buffy continued She frowned. "What about the rest of the people in this place? The rest of the, uh, inmates. Surely they can't all be - be......" her voice trailed off as she glanced at the station which contained what had been the orderly.  
  
A low moan brought her whirling round; Willow's eyes were flickering. She sat up shakily, rubbing her face, glancing up at Faith and Buffy. Buffy moved to her side; she held up a hand and Buffy pulled her to her feet. "What happened? What's going on?" 


	6. 

Part 6 - Finding Out  
  
The three of them had made a quick investigation of the hospital, only Faith and Buffy daring to look into the rooms. Buffy had blanched at the first, and then refused to let Willow anywhere near them. She'd gritted her teeth, but they had to search. Surely someone would have escaped....  
  
Silence reigned throughout. The place had been decimated; there was no clue as to what had torn through the rooms, ripping apart and killing everything in its path. Not until they reached the far end of the building, and then they found something. Words, jaggedly scrawled over the walls and floor of a room. Written in blood, bright and vivid against the magnolia walls. Obscene, evil, mocking. Curses and threats - against them all; but directed mainly at Faith. Buffy had checked her watch before they'd begun to look; the thing that had knocked them out and killed the inmates and staff at the hospital had done so in less than half an hour. They'd gone back to the dayroom and called Giles, white and shaken.  
  
He paced in front of them now, glasses clutched tightly in one hand. "And you say - the air became thin? And then you fell?" he questioned. Buffy nodded, mouth tight as the memories of what she'd seen in the rooms (some locked, some not) danced in front of her eyes. Blood everywhere; so much blood. So much red. Faith sat curled up in a chair, trying to make herself as small as possible. Her face was startlingly white against the dark hair, eyes black pools, wide with horror as she stared unblinkingly at her knees. She hadn't spoken a word since Giles arrived. He turned to Faith, his voice surprisingly gentle. "Faith? Can you tell me what happened? What you - felt?"  
  
She looked up then, nodded slightly. "It was the same as the dreams," she said softly. She looked back at her knees. "Buffy and, and Willow were talking. Then - I felt like someone was looking at me, watching me. But I knew I wasn't asleep, this time......," she paused and swallowed, licking dry lips. "It felt like something was, I don't know, gloating. Sort of glad to have found me, but not - not in a good way. Then I felt - like something was - pinning me into the chair, I couldn't speak, couldn't move, couldn't - do anything." Her voice became almost inaudible. "It felt - felt like my mother." She raised her face then and looked at Giles, meeting his gaze. "It felt like it used to feel when I was little, and I'd know she was in the house - watching me."  
  
* * * * * *  
  
The story was featured on the evening news. The official version was that the inmates had somehow turned on the staff, then on each other. Conclusion? Mass murder by the crazies. No further investigation was needed, stated the reporter, police were satisfied with what they'd come up with. Covering up unusual events in Sunnydale had become second nature by now, part of the job. The real truth would never be revealed, that an unknown something had attacked and killed the inmates and staff. Nor would the truth of the devastation wreaked at the hospital ever be revealed to the townsfolk.  
  
They watched the report at Giles'. He'd made the three girls return to his place, before he called the authorities in to the scene. He'd only taken a quick look - it had shaken him up so much that he'd stammered on the phone, been as white as a sheet by the time they arrived. He'd said he'd come to visit a staff member. After briefly questioning him and taking his details, they'd let him go.  
  
The rest of the Scooby Gang had been called over; it had been Giles' decision to return there and to take Faith with them. It would take the authorities some time to discover that she wasn't at the hospital anyway, with the state that some of the inmates had been left in, those that had been in the dormitories. He'd also made the decision not to contact the Council, feeling that it was better if they dealt with what had happened without the Council's knowledge, especially with Faith's conviction that this was her fault, that she had brought this down on them.  
  
He paced now, trying to keep his face still as Buffy described again what they'd seen. Willow's face blanched, and Xander comfortingly took her hand. They sat together, Xander perching on the arm of Willows' chair. She swallowed, thankful that Buffy'd insisted she stay back, pushing her away when she would have looked into the rooms with them.  
  
"Faith, why - why do you think this is something - something to do with your mother?" he said finally, coming to a halt in front of her, where she huddled next to Buffy on the sofa. "I mean, the words in that room, were, well. But why your mother? We know something came, but what makes you, I mean, why do you think it was her?" 


	7. 

Part 7 - Revelation  
  
Her face and eyes were blank when she looked up at him, her voice monotone. No inflection, no expression, as she told them something she hadn't even related to Buffy.  
  
"When I was little, my Mom used to watch me. All the time. Said I was bad, evil, a thing of the Devil. I never knew my father... Perhaps she didn't. She was religious but she - slipped. She started dabbling, she called it, in the occult. Witchcraft, spells, stuff like that. Sort of thing that Willow does but, but, darker. Said it was my fault. Started going with men, but couldn't keep them very long. Started to drink, and blamed it on me when they left her. Accused me of - things I didn't understand, not then. I was only nine years old!" Her voice rose slightly then, settling back almost immediately into its monotone. The others watched her carefully, Willow still clutching tightly to Xander's hand, while Anya stood behind him, hands resting on his shoulders. For a change, she understood his need to comfort Willow. Even her face had paled at the description of the hospital rooms, and she'd been a demon.  
  
"It went on for a couple of years, getting worse and worse and worse. She'd lock me in a cupboard under the stairs, she'd hit me, she'd even burn me with her cigarettes." She shuddered. "There was something in that cupboard, but she never believed me... But she was always sorry afterwards, y'know, when she was sober again. And I used to forgive her and think it would never happen again, and then it'd be the next time. And the time after that. But I stayed, I mean - she was still my Mom." She paused, looking inward. "And then one day - I turned 16. We hadn't celebrated my birthday for years, not even a card, nothing. That was the day my Watcher turned up - well, my first Watcher." Giles nodded. He'd known, as the others had not, that Faith had had more than one Watcher.  
  
"She was drunk when he came, as usual. Told him where he could go, after she tried to seduce him. But she was so drunk she couldn't even stand up. He left but he promised to come back. When he did? He had enough time to tell me what he was, what I was, then she - she came. She - uh, she - she," her voice broke on the words, "she shot him. With a rifle she'd borrowed. I don't know where she got it, or what she did with it afterwards. She was crazy, you know? Really crazy." She began to cry then, deep sobs. "She made me haul his body to the cellar. I - I - I couldn't take anymore. But I didn't mean for it to happen, I didn't know how strong I was as a Slayer. I just - I just pushed her. That's all. Just pushed her a bit, and she fell down the stairs. She lay at the bottom, she didn't move. No sound. Nothing. And I left, I just got out. I left her there." She looked back at her knees, breath hitching in and out. "You read the - stuff in that room. What was on the walls. I  
thought she was dead. Maybe I was wrong......"  
  
Buffy looked at Giles, worry in her blue eyes. He barely shook his head before turning back to Faith. "But why now? Why should she suddenly come back now?" Faith shook her head and shrugged, still studying her drawn up knees. Giles began to pace again, tapping his glasses absently against his lips. "I think......I wonder," he began, "if it's something to do with one of the rituals Wesley performed...... We'll need to look into it."  
  
He polished his glasses, put them back on and turned to Willow and Xander, smiling grimly. "It's research time. Willow, try and find anything you can on the ritual that Wesley used to switch Faith and Buffy back. Anything to do with the stone he used, the spell. I'll try to contact Wesley or Angel, find out where he found it, anything that might help us. Xander, you help Willow, but I want you to look for the - ritual he used to, um, help Faith. Anya, you do what you can to help them both." They nodded and rose to their feet, faces clearing, now feeling that perhaps they could do something to help, to stop anything more happening. Buffy sat, watching him, cradling Faith in her arms - she sat, shoulders shaking, but quiet now.  
  
"What can I do?" she asked.  
  
Giles crouched down in front of them, and tightly gripped Faith's hand. "Look after Faith, for the moment," he replied. "Until we find out - well, till we know something." He squeezed Faith's fingers and rose to his feet. "I'm going to phone Angel - and Wesley." 


	8. 

Part 8 - Angel  
  
Cordelia hummed as she typed up an invoice on the screen, smiling with satisfaction as she put in the figures. The sunlight poured through the windows nearby; she paused for a moment to look out, down onto the street. Everything was quiet, the only sound a single car passing by. She returned to her typing, musing that they could do with some business; everything seemed to have gone so quiet lately. She sighed and returned to her work. When the phone shrilled, she looked up from the keyboard; it was a welcome distraction.  
  
She stretched briefly and brushed her hair back before she picked it up, voice bright. "Angel Investigations, we help the hopeless, what can we do for you?"  
  
The voice on the other end was clipped and familiar. "Ah, yes, ah, hello, Cordelia. It's Rupert Giles here. May I speak to Angel, or, or Wesley please? It's very urgent. I must speak to them at once." The words tumbled over each other in Giles' haste, the urgency in his voice unmistakable.  
  
"OK, OK, Giles. Relax! I'll go get him, hold on for a moment." Great, Cordy thought, not more business then. She'd told Angel they were heading for trouble, but he wouldn't listen to her. And how long would his mysterious funds last anyway? She shook her head briefly then put the handset on the desk and rose to her feet, pausing to lower the blinds in the office, shrouding it in shadows. She made her way out of the room and next door where Angel was, as usual, poring over a book.  
  
"Angel. Phone call for you. It's Giles," she said, pointing over her shoulder. "He sounds kinda...worried." She glanced round the room. "He wanted Wesley as well - where'd he go? I thought he was here."  
  
Angel was already brushing past her as she finished speaking. "He - went out the back way. He's got a couple of things to do - he'll be back later." She shrugged and ambled after him, perching on the edge of the desk since Angel had taken her chair, and listening to his end of the conversation. She was still none the wiser when he put the phone down and leaned back, eyes dark, frowning.  
  
"So? What was all that about?" she questioned, watching him closely. He looked up at her. "Did Wesleys' spell not work? `Cause, you know, I thought that was all fixed now. Has Faith done something? Has she gone all bad again? I thought you said that it couldn't ever happen, that the spell -"  
  
Angel cut her off. "Something - something's happened. The inmates at the hospital where she was - have been butchered. And from the sound of it, Buffy and the others are next on the list. And Faith is connected," he said slowly. "Giles thinks it might be something to do with - one of the things we did when she was here, either the spell to change them back or the one that Wesley did afterwards." His face hardened and he looked at her, expression and eyes shadowed. "But whatever it is, I'm going to Sunnydale. And Wesley's coming with me." 


	9. 

Part 9 - Back in Sunnydale  
  
They arrived in Sunnydale just before dawn two days later. Giles blinked sleep from his eyes as he opened the door and gestured them in, mildly surprised when Angel didn't follow Wesley, hesitating instead at the doorway. He opened his mouth and then realised what was missing; the invitation to enter.  
  
"Oh. Oh! Come in, Angel," he said. "Sorry. How stupid of me. I didn't think."  
  
Angel smiled faintly and stepped through, glancing round the room, seeing Willow and Xander at the table, heads awkwardly pillowed on the books they'd been researching through. He shook his head slightly, smile widening at the sound of Xander's snores. Anya had pulled her chair as close to his as possible, and sat half-leaning over, cuddled next to him. The chair that was half pulled out from the table was evidence that they'd not been the only ones to succumb to sleep.  
  
Angel's eyes settled then on the huddled form under a blanket on the sofa; Faith, sleeping lightly, face and lips pale, eyes surrounded by dark circles, black hair tangled and wild. He looked then at Buffy, slumped wearily in a chair next to her. A hand came out from under the blanket, and was clutching tightly onto Buffy's. She looked up, face lighting up as she saw them, watching them enter the house, smiling as she saw Angel. Gently she released Faith's hand, tucking it back under the blanket, and rose to her feet. Giles watched for a moment as they stared at each other, eyes locked, oblivious to anything but each other, then cleared his throat. It broke the silence and their gazes; Buffy blushed and glanced away, and the moment was gone.  
  
"Let's go into the kitchen," Giles said quietly. "The nightmares are so bad now that Faith is scared to sleep; this is the first time she's been able to and I don't want to wake her."  
  
"Have you found anything?" Buffy asked urgently, as soon as they were in the kitchen. They stood close together in the small room, almost shoulder to shoulder. Buffy unconsciously moved as close to Angel as possible, their arms touching, feeling the cold leather of his coat against her hand. Gently Angel took her hand, cradling it in his. "We have to do something, Faith's - well, she's not going to last much longer. She's getting worse, she says she can feel - this thing, all the time now. It knows where she is; she says - it's getting closer."  
  
"Don't worry, Buffy," he tried to soothe her, voice deep and quiet. "We think - Wesley thinks - he knows what's happened. We've come to help. You'd better tell them what you found." Angel looked at Wesley, who cleared his throat uncomfortably.  
  
"Ah. Well. Yes. You explained things on the phone, and, and, um." He gestured to the bags that he and Angel had brought it with them; they sat by the door. "I've brought the Book with me, the one where I found the invocation to help Faith. And. And, I've read through it in a - little more depth." His gaze moved to the floor as he miserably continued. "The - ah, spell. Yes. While it took away Faith's urges to kill, it - it released something. That's another reason while the spell wasn't used that often, despite the good it can do." He raised his eyes, looking at Giles. "It released all Faith's pent-up guilt and - the urge to kill. And it focused it on the thing she felt most guilty about, the thing that had been pushed to the back of her mind all this time. The fact that she might - oh dear - might have killed her mother."  
  
Giles stared at Angel and Wesley. "So you're saying," he said slowly, "that somehow - you took Faith's rather, um, psychotic urges, and you - let them out. Gave them focus and apparently, form." He paused. "And Faith is still linked to everything?"  
  
Wesley nodded in confirmation. "Yes. You said on the phone that her mother - dabbled?" Giles nodded. Wesley pressed on. "And that Faith said her mother was, ah, crazy? Enough to kill at least once?" Giles nodded again, frowning slightly, wondering what Wesley was getting at. "With the advent of, ah, the spell on Faith - well. Faith's guilt and killing streak - the energies have somehow - raised - her mother." Wesley nervously rubbed his hands together and shivered once. "With the description of the writing, the blood in the hospital - she obviously wants some sort of revenge on Faith. But she'll kill whatever she finds in her way - and especially anyone close to Faith. You're all just part of the fun now." He indicated Buffy, Giles, the peacefully sleeping forms of Xander, Willow and Anya with a broad sweep of his hand.  
  
He carried out after a moment's stunned silence. "I think the reason it's so much worse now is that - well, because the thing, her mother, call it what you will - is so much closer. She's linked to it; after all, it's her guilt, and her urge to kill that drives it and it's feeding from her, somehow. Faith is mutliplying the madness that was already there. That's why she was so badly affected in the hospital, but then she must have had enough strength to somehow protect Buffy and Willow from the - the killing spree. But now - the energy that has been released is stronger than ever and it's feeding from Faith's fear and from her continued guilt; it's gorging from her. I very much fear that Faith won't be able to stop it. And I think it's going to come looking - very soon. Very soon indeed."  
  
Giles turned away, looking through the archway at Faith, who was stirring slightly under her blanket. A small sound escaped her before she subsided and lay still again.  
  
"What happens - if this thing keeps feeding from Faith?" Buffy said quietly, fists clenched at her sides, glancing up at Angel who had been silent throughout as Wesley spoke.  
  
Wesley's face was serious as he looked at Angel then at Giles and finally at Buffy. "It will kill her," he said simply. "One way or another, it wants her dead." 


	10. 

Part 10 - Anya Remembers  
  
"What if, if we do some sort of spell?" Willow ventured, looking round the table at the others. "I'm sure we could find something......"  
  
They were all huddled round the table, books open and piled up in front of them. The blinds were shut against the sunlight and a couple of lamps shone dimly. Giles had volunteered to make the coffee; they could hear him moving round in the kitchen. Willow sighed and looked back at the book in her lap. Anya just stared into space, face pinched, frowning as she tried to remember something. Angel pushed back his chair, wincing as it grated loudly on the floor, and moved over to run his fingers over the books stacked in haphazard piles on a nearby cabinet.  
  
Faith sat with them; eyes glittering and red rimmed with tiredness, surrounded by black circles, skin white. Her hair was wild and Buffy had fetched a brush and stood behind her, working on the snarls, gently untangling it. "You could pass for the bride of Dracula," she'd joked earlier. Faith had managed an expression that could just about pass for a smile. Exhaustion was clear in her features, the skin pulled taut against the high cheekbones.  
  
Xander looked up, face tense, rapidly tapping the end of his pencil against an age-yellowed page. "I think magic has done enough already, Will," he said gently. "I wish there was some non-magicky way we could fight this but I don't see how. Magic seems to breed magic." He looked round, eyes settling briefly on Faith, and shrugged. "How else are we gonna stop this - whatever-it-is - without more magic?" None of them could quite bring themselves to acknowledge or say what it really was. It was OK to face demons, vamps, even people's evil vampire-boyfriends, whatever, but not - not someone's mother. Not even someone's super-evil, murdering, spell casting zombie-mother.  
  
Willow sighed. "I don't know.........it'll have to be magic, somehow. There must be something in these books somewhere. We'll, we'll just have to keep looking, is all. Wesley, do you have any ideas?"  
  
Wesley stared down at the pages in front of him. "Apart from the clues in the book I used to, ah, change Faith, no. Nothing........." He smiled reassuringly at Faith, who gave no indication of listening to them, instead staring into space, not seeing them but - something else. "But we'll keep looking. We'll find something. You'll see."  
  
Buffy slowly stopped combing Faith's hair and took a deep breath, chest suddenly feeling tight. These were people who Faith had hurt, had used, and yet they were giving everything to help. A sure sign of how much she'd changed, what she'd become. She stepped to one side and laid the brush down on the table, gently squeezing Faith's shoulder. "I'm just going to - to help Giles," she said. Angel's eyes were dark as he stood by the cabinet and watched her walk quietly away through the archway.  
  
"Buffy?" Giles turned at her light step, a bowl of sugar in one hand, regarding her worried expression.  
  
"Giles, how are we - what happens to Faith? I mean, we can kill this thing, right? But - what happens to Faith?" she asked pensively, voice low so that the others wouldn't hear her hurried words. "Will she stay like she is? I like her, I don't want anything to happen to her. I don't want things - to be like they were before."  
  
Giles set the sugar bowl down and automatically took his glasses off, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Well, Wesley's spell - is irreversible. And as you know, the text goes far enough to say that this might happen, so the sect that used it - on rare occasions - must have had a way to deal with it. Just a pity they didn't see fit to write down what it was......" he trailed off. "If we can kill this thing, then, well, Faith should be fine. And once this is done with, I don't intend to tell the Council anything. They'll know something already, of course, they know everything, but I don't - well, I don't intend to let Faith back under their justice, as they call it. There's no need." Buffy snorted at the mention of the Watcher's Council and after a brief smile, Giles carried on.  
  
"I don't believe that the Council can be aware at the moment that this is connected to Faith, or they'd be here in force. Despite all their power, these things take time to filter through. And hopefully by that time, we'll have the situation under control - and things will be back to normal." He stopped again, sliding his glasses back on, eyeing the sugar bowl on the counter, almost as if it were at fault. "But I am determined that they will - not - take - Faith - back. Redemption won't be achieved by being locked up for the next ten or twenty years. She'll need to find her own way to do that. Once this, ah, this is dealt with."  
  
They stared at each other for a moment and Giles turned to pick up a cup; when Anya's excited shriek of triumph broke the quiet, the sound as they rushed from the kitchen, and it shattered on the tiled floor, was lost. 


	11. 

Part 11 - Mommy Comes to Visit  
  
The trap was set and the bait had been lulled into sleep on the sofa, covered loosely with a blanket. Faith was so exhausted that it hadn't taken much to send her on her way, Giles and a spinning, shimmering crystal soothing her into sleep.  
  
Willow, Xander and Anya crouched under the table, where Buffy hoped they'd be out of harms way. Giles and Wesley, with the books and their ingredients, could be heard chanting in low voices upstairs on a little-used balcony which overlooked the room. Buffy and Angel huddled close together in the kitchen, just behind the archway, standing quietly, hands clasped. The room was almost silent, the lights dimmed. Faith's words, before she'd slipped away from them into sleep, had indicated that Mommy dearest was on her way. They waited.  
  
Faith moaned in her sleep, tossing her head on the pillow, muttering low in her throat. Buffy began to go to her, releasing her grip on Angel's hand. She moved two steps forwards, halting abruptly as the already low lights dimmed further, further, further, almost complete darkness now. Then flaring abruptly, pulsing so brightly that Buffy cried out as she closed her eyes tightly. Through her closed lids she could see the pulsing, dim, bright, dim, bright. It stopped suddenly, the lights flickering gently but not flaring as brightly as before. She opened her eyes warily. And the air - she could feel it growing perceptibly colder. She took a careful step backwards, feeling the solidity of Angel behind her, watching her breath plume in the now freezing air. He grasped her shoulders tightly as they regarded Faith, deep in the grip of whatever nightmare she inhabited, watching as she flung the blanket to one side, head shaking from side to side, mouth open in a silent scream.  
  
The windows rattled suddenly as something smashed forcefully against the door, once, twice, the wood bending visibly inwards against the strain. The sound as the windows imploded and the door shattered were simultaneous. A resounding crack as the door gave way, splinters thrown outward into the room, dust rising in a cloud, pieces of door rattling as they hit the tiled floor. Shards of glass raining musically, lethally onto the floor, a glittering hail of sharpness.  
  
Buffy dropped to the floor, rolling onto her knees, Angel close beside her as the sounds rained over them. Then silence.  
  
Cautiously she raised her head, looking first in the direction of the table. Three frightened faces were looking back at her from under it. She smiled reassuringly at them before peering through the drifting dust towards the door. A shape stood in the opening - a woman's shape. Buffy gagged slightly at the stench from it. The skin was mottled and grey, mouldering; scabbed and oozing in some places, hanging from the bony frame. Hair clung to the skull, thin and sparse, clotted with dirt. Rags hung from the body; they might once have been clothes but no longer. Dark holes sat where the eyes should have been; the lips were black, scaley, parted. Hands hung down by its sides, tipped with long, dirt encrusted sharp nails. The head turned, and Buffy could see the nostrils flaring redly as it scented for something. Not something, though, Buffy knew; but Faith.  
  
In front of her, on the sofa, Faith sat up, eyes wide and unblinking, and began to scream.  
  
The thing opened its mouth. "Ahhhhh, little Faith." The voice was thick, clotted, dead. "I enjoyed your friends. So much red blooood..... But you've been bad. And Mommy's come to take you hoooommmmmmeeeee......"  
  
Buffy rose to her feet, reminding herself sternly that she'd faced worse things than this. Some had even smelled as bad, she thought, swallowing, forcing herself to remain calm, reminding herself again that this wouldn't harm Faith. Angel rose to his feet beside her, nodding at her. Together they moved out into the open, watching as the thing's head swung sharply. Something burned in the empty eye sockets; Buffy could hear its breath rasping in and out of the ruined throat.  
  
"I don't believe we've met," Buffy said loudly, trying to make herself heard over Faith's pealing, hysterical screams. She wondered briefly why she and Angel had volunteered for the distraction job. Of course, she reminded herself, because I'm the Slayer and he's a vampire. Silly me! How could I forget?  
  
The thing that had once been Faith's mother laughed, a grating, corrupted, wet sound from its rotted throat. "We don't neeeed to meeeeet. You'rree deead, little girl. I don't need magic to help meee this time........." It began to move forwards, stiff but still moving quickly, grinning, empty eyes looking at her, feet grating on the broken glass from the windows. Buffy exchanged glances with Angel; as planned, they moved outwards, flanking it.  
  
Above her, Buffy dimly heard Giles voice rise as the thing raised its hands, fingers hooked into slashing claws; there was a sharp flicker and the thing howled with sudden pain and anger as the spell abruptly stopped its ability to feed from Faith, effectively slamming a shield between them. Anya had provided them with some of the information; she'd actually remembered an instance from her time as a demon, when something similar to this had occurred. The rest of the gang had searched feverishly through books and eventually found the key spells, the unwritten rituals. And now it was time to use them, and stop the murderous corpse that had been Faith's mother.  
  
It doubled over for a moment as it was cut off from Faith, its source, weakening slightly; then resumed its advance, hissing. It snarled and raised its head, looking up to where Giles and Wesley worked feverishly to complete the next stage of the working, started to move towards the stairs leading upwards. Buffy swallowed and launched herself forwards before she could think better of it, kicking out, booted foot hitting and knocking the thing backwards, turning its attention away from the balcony. She danced backwards, moving lightly on the balls of her feet, out of its reach. From the corner of her eye she saw movement as Angel came in from the other side. The stench grew worse as her kicks left gaping rents in the rotted, corrupted flesh.  
  
It roared in anger, regaining its feet far more quickly than she would have believed possible, just in time to be knocked back again by Angel, spinning to its feet again, hissing its rage - he didn't move fast enough, surprised by its agility and it lashed out and caught him across the face, four parallel oozing gashes across his cheek. He yelped and staggered backwards, the dead thing following him, slashing again and again. He ducked, barely escaping its nails as it drove him back, but it was focused on him now. It had momentarily forgotten Buffy - till her kick sent it spinning round, knocking it away from Angel and against the wall with a wet thud. It staggered, falling to its knees, then rose again, hissing and growling, advancing towards Buffy.  
  
"Hurry, Giles!" she howled over her shoulder, kicking out again and again, the sound of Faith's screams deafening, unable to believe that the thing kept coming - and coming...... 


	12. 

Part 12 - Aftermath and Leaving  
  
Between them, Angel and Buffy forced it back, pinning the animated, reeking corpse into a corner. Angel turned, dark blood oozing down his face from the scratches, eyes glowing and features bestial. Buffy cast a single glance at the face she loved - vampire or no - and continued her attack. Even cut off from Faith, the damage its crusted nails could inflict was bad enough - and even though it was no longer able to feed, it still had the Slayer strength it had gained before.  
  
It was more than a match for them, and Buffy had the niggling doubt in her mind that, were it not for the magic being invoked above them by Giles and Wesley, she and Angel would have had trouble stopping it. How did you kill something that was already dead and rotting? She turned, jumping, kicking out, catching the corpse in the midsection with a wet sound that made her feel sick; it lurched forwards and she slipped as she landed, yelping as it lashed out at her and caught her shoulder with its putrid, blackened nails, slicing easily through the fabric of her clothes.  
  
Angel growled and drove in from the other side and dimly Buffy heard Giles and Wesley's voices shouting, somehow now one voice, louder and louder and louder, drowning everything and everyone, deafening, echoing .........  
  
She twisted to one side and clapped her hands over her ears, trying to shut out the noise, backing away, screaming in pain and watching as the thing grinned even more widely and started towards her. It deftly avoided Angel as he staggered backwards, senses momentarily disrupted by the wall of sound that hit them with the force of a tidal wave.  
  
Every light in Giles' apartment flared suddenly, the light brighter than anyone would have thought possible, like the sun at midday. Buffy squeezed her eyes tightly shut; Angel stumbled into her and she felt him shaking against her as the light seared into his flesh, the sensory overload stunning, impossible to bear for long. Giles' and Wesley's voices stopped, the sudden silence as the end of the invocation was reached leaving a void, an emptiness. The flaring brightness of the lamps lasted for no more than a few seconds, before the bulbs imploded, throwing yet more glass shards up into the air. The thing started to howl, a bubbling, rising, shrieking, mind numbing sound that drowned even the screams still issuing from Faith, accompanied by a hissing, spitting, crunching noise as - something that Buffy didn't want to think about in too much depth - happened to it.........  
  
* * * * *  
  
They walked down the street together, hands lightly clasped. A few passersby gave them odd looks; but Buffy didn't much care what they thought. She glanced at Faith and smiled. The sunlight glowed on her skin, made the dark hair shine like oiled wood in the warm sunlight. Faith grinned back at her and swung their clasped hands up, almost skipping. She still looked tired, but her cheeks had regained some colour and her lips glistened glossily red from the lipstick she still liked to use. Buffy knew that Faith still woke screaming, some nights, but the dreams were receding and eventually, Giles had assured them both, they'd stop altogether. Hopefully. The final spell to get rid of the walking corpse that had come for Faith hadn't harmed her at all, as promised, and she remained calm and happy, finally normal. Buffy was almost glowing as they wandered down the wide avenue, heading back towards Giles' apartment, yet her happiness was tempered by a slight sting of sadness.  
  
The flaring of the lamps, the fiery brightness, had had the same effect as sunlight would have had on Angel; the vampire's pale skin had burned and it had been some time before he had been able to see again. As well, the injuries that he and Buffy had suffered during the fight had become infected; the first time Buffy could ever remember such a thing happening. For a change, her Slayer power had failed her; and her shoulder still pained her, the furrows deep but starting to heal, the poison finally leached out. They'd spent the time resting, talking, taking comfort in the presence of the others, all recovering together. Even though they'd stayed out of the fight, Willow still woke screaming at night, seeing the creature that had been Faith's mother in her dreams. Xander was shaken - Anya was the only one who seemed to be unscathed. Buffy put it down to being an ex-demon. She'd probably seen much worse things, and Buffy really didn't want to know what they could have been.  
  
Buffy and Faith had skipped out for a while today though, and as they walked, the sky above them was cloudless and blue; the day was perfect. But Faith was leaving. Going back to LA with Angel and Wesley, away from the Council, away from the wreckage of the hospital, away from the memories of the - thing that had come back from the grave for her.  
  
They'd talked over Faith's decision, all of them, and had become convinced that it was the right thing for her to do. To remain in Sunnydale would risk her incarceration at the hands of the Council again; at least in LA she could do some good, could help Angel. And Giles had seen enough, they all had, to know that she was fine, that the last vestiges of guilt and anger had gone - with the thing that had once been her mother.  
  
"I still wish you didn't have to go," Buffy said softly as they walked back to Giles'.  
  
Faith nodded. "I know. And I want to stay, B, but, I can't. The Council will come for me eventually, you know they will. They'll never believe that I'm, I'm not what I used to be." She paused and looked around. "And perhaps, away from Sunnydale, I can find myself, who I really am. And perhaps I can somehow find the redemption for those things I did - before Wesley and Angel, um, helped me. You know?" Her eyes were shining as she looked at Buffy, who nodded.  
  
"Yeah. I know," she replied. "But I still wish you didn't have to go."  
  
Faith smiled. "Can't help it, B. A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. Especially in the soul saving department. And I'll have an expert teacher in Angel, for that. But don't worry," she stopped walking suddenly, swinging Buffy round and into a tight embrace, her voice suddenly hoarse as she fought back tears, "everything'll be fine. And I'll come back to visit - it'll be OK." She stood back slightly then, looked into Buffy's eyes for a moment and, leaning quickly forward, she dropped a light, gentle kiss on her surprised mouth. "We're fine, B. We're five-by-five. And anytime you're ready, you know I'll be waiting - don't you?" 


End file.
